


You're cute when you're angry

by SeraphHT



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Awkward Crush, Banter, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Injury, M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fill, but vulpes gets caught out anyway lol, even tho the courier knows, vulpes wont admit his feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphHT/pseuds/SeraphHT
Summary: Vulpes won't admit he has a crush on the Courier. Too bad the Courier already knows that, and Vulpes getting all flustered just confirms it. (A fill for the kinkmeme)
Relationships: Male Courier/Vulpes Inculta
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	You're cute when you're angry

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt on the Livejournal kinkmeme was basically this: Character A is a blushing, flustered mess around Character B but will not admit they have a crush on them. Hope you enjoy.

Although the Legion emphasized the mastery of melee and unarmed combat, it was always beneficial to master the use of firearms as well. Which is why Vulpes always ensured his Frumentarii carried at least one gun with them, preferably a shotgun. Just in case they ran across something that would be impossible to kill with hand-held weapons.  
  
Like Deathclaws.  
  
“What are you doing?” Vulpes’ eyes widened as one of his own ran ahead of the group and towards the Deathclaw rushing _straight towards them_. The rest of the Frumentarii—including himself—had barely removed their weapons when the Courier drew his arm back and sent a fist flying forward to the abomination’s torso.  
  
The grueling _crunch_ resonated and sent a wave of dread to Vulpes’ chest, mind playing a scene of a hand breaking against hard scales. What followed completely surprised everyone, as the Deathclaw cried out and slashed its attacker’s arm—before Vulpes finally managed to shoot and kill it.  
  
As it slumped dead to the ground, there were some seconds of silence as everybody processed what had just happened.  
  
“That was reckless,” Vulpes hissed angrily, holstering his firearm as he loomed towards the Courier, eyes alight with rage. “I cannot even begin to state how much danger you put yourself into.”  
  
“It’s just endangering me, not everyone else,” he shrugged in response, the indifference irritating the other even more.  
  
Then Vulpes noticed the left arm. “It crippled your arm,” he growled.  
  
The Courier glanced at said wound. “Right. We’ll fix it once we get back to the Fort.”  
  
“No,” Vulpes glared, before saying to the other members. “Check the perimeter. Keep abominations and threats clear from here.”  
  
As they dispersed, Vulpes more yanked than led the injured man to a nearby rock before procuring a doctor’s bag from his inventory and removing his eyepiece. The other raised an eyebrow as the lead Frumentarius forced him to sit, before getting to work.  
  
“I’m quite a qualified doctor, you know,” he commented. “I can heal myself.”  
  
“Just as how you convinced Caesar you are a capable warrior, yet you pull a foolish act such as you did,” Vulpes narrowed his eyes disapprovingly. “I fail to see how my lord sees worth in you profligates, with your unruly tendencies.”  
  
The initial step was to wipe away the blood. Taking out a gauze, he dabbed the heavily affected areas first. As red absorbed into the cloth, dark skin revealed from underneath, stretching across long muscles, absorbing the Mojave sun nicely. What a temptation to touch. It certainly didn’t skin the other alive as it did to Vulpes.  
  
“My name’s Damien,” the Courier added out of nowhere.  
  
“As if I don’t know that,” the other grounded in reply.  
  
“And I’ve spent most of my wanderings with nothing but spiked knuckles and powerfists.”  
  
“A stupidly dangerous mentality to solely rely on. Only a fool harnesses one type of knowledge, and in his ignorance, gains no benefit.”  
  
“Look at you giving me advice. Didn’t know you were so caring.”  
  
Vulpes could see from the corner of his eyes that the other was smirking.  
  
Fucking tease.  
  
“I only admonish the ignorant, else they wish to be put on a cross.”

Silence fell for a few moments.  
  
“Thank you,” the Courier said slowly, watching the other work. Vulpes’ eye twitched as thoughts hammered to keep his mind focused on the injury, not the strange softness of the other man’s soothing voice. “About the Deathclaw, I mean. If it weren’t for you, it might have crippled my torso too.”  
  
“I didn’t kill it for _you,_ ” Vulpes outlined defiantly, and for some reason the urge for his eye to twitch increased.  
  
“Really?” he drew the word out, obviously teasing.  
  
The other’s fingers slowed slightly but quickly resumed their efficient speed. Still, the Courier noticed it.  
  
“…for reasons I don’t understand, Lord Caesar considers you an asset to the Legion,” Vulpes constructed, voice smooth as silk. “That is only part of the reason. If the abomination hadn’t been destroyed, my other Frumentarii might’ve been killed.”  
  
“Of course,” Damien smirked, and it irrationally spiked Vulpes’ annoyance. “You didn’t do it to save me just because it was _me_.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
Damien chuckled. Hearing laughter—genuine laughter, he means, that is the one derived from happiness rather than malice or drunken stupor—was hard to come by in the world they were in. The sound was as rare as it was beautiful.  
  
Vulpes caught himself staring and felt self-consciousness crowding his chest, just as a voice in his head reprimanded his stupidity for the moment of distraction. His hands resumed work.  
  
“I know there was frustration among the legionaries because of Caesar’s decision to make me a Frumentarius,” Damien continued.  
  
“There was,” he replied, a hint of discontentment in his tone as the memory was recalled. “I heard a few express their disapproval when they thought I was not around. They spoke of schemes to disable you in such a way to make you useless to the Legion.”  
  
“So I’ve heard,” he hummed. “Which is why I saw a few of them on the cross this morning.”  
  
“Yes,” Vulpes confirmed, readying the equipment to stitch the wound.  
  
“Under your orders.”  
  
“As it should be,” Vulpes said, almost cautiously as though he could tell where the Courier was going.  
  
He started stitching, slow and careful. The slight hisses of pain were the only indication he was doing well. Never mind the soft curses were also… pleasant to his ears.  
  
“Any attempt to foil or reverse a decision of Caesar is to be punished with death.”  
  
“Especially if it involves me, eh?” Damien’s lips parted into a small grin.  
  
He wasn’t going to take the bait. “If you’d like to think so.”  
  
“I _do_ like to think so.”  
  
Vulpes looked up. He was immediately greeted by a pair of sleek brown eyes, almost golden in the brilliant sun. They pierced straight through him. His lips were curled into a smile. It would have been childish, if the dark stubble about the strong jaw didn’t provide extra charm.  
  
How devilishly handsome.  
  
“…idiot,” was all he managed to say. At least it _sounded_ real.  
  
Feeling his face heat up, Vulpes’ eye twitched with the effort of keeping his expression neutral. He concentrated on finishing the stitches, hoping Mars would strike him dead than let the other notice his embarrassment.

“Why do you call me ‘profligate’ and ‘Courier’ when you already know my name?”  
  
“Is there a reason I should address you as such?” Vulpes arched a brow, not looking up. Not when just glancing at his face had such a big effect on him. “You have yet to prove your place as a Frumentarius.”  
  
“Only because I think my name would be perfect on your lips.”  
  
There was a slight pause as Vulpes prepared a sling. Of course that wasn’t the _real_ reason for the delay— his heart was busy doing backflips as his brains tried to organize the thoughts running around in his head.  
  
Both of them stood once the injury was taken care of.  
  
“Again, thank you,” Damien grinned. “It’s more than I expected from someone who won’t admit they have a crush on me.”  
  
“I _do not_ —“ Vulpes stopped abruptly, and oh, he knew he was screwed. Feigning an annoyed sigh to cover his mortification, the lead Frumentarius turned around. “Live in your fantasy, but I certainly harbor _no_ fondness for you.”  
  
He could hear the footsteps behind him as they went to regroup with the others. Suddenly the other drawled, “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”   
  
Vulpes nearly tripped over a rock.  
  
He regained his balance, and Damien started to laugh, and Vulpes could really use someone to put on a cross right then.

**Author's Note:**

> Do leave kudos.


End file.
